


When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

by starsinoureyes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry is in wheelchairs, Harry is shy but Louis fixes that, M/M, Nurses, Old Age, Old Harry, Old Louis, Poker, Retirement, Senior citizen village, Wheelchairs, because it's a retirement village and old people die, lots of contemplations of life and death, no smut sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4333122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsinoureyes/pseuds/starsinoureyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do flowers carry a meaning? Is that a real thing?” Louis asked, coming to stand next to Harry again. If Harry noticed Louis’ hands shaking and quick change of subject, he didn’t tell. </p><p>“Like if you give someone a lily or a rose, would there be a hidden meaning for the receiver?”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Of course. If I gave you this pink rose, it’d mean admiration or appreciation.”</p><p>Louis blinked down at Harry who seemed unperturbed by his own words. He carried on touching the flowers with his gentle hands. “And if I gave you a daisy, it’d mean innocence.”<br/>---</p><p>~Retirement AU. That's all you need to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This was purely self-indulgent work when I realised there wasn't a H/L fic where they're older than 30 for most of the fic. I wanted to finish this during my free week in February before new semester started but then it took out of control and became this.  
> Special thanks to Emily who kindly accepted my offer to edit this and who made collage as well. 
> 
> Dedicated to my grandpa who was an amazing man and who I miss terribly. Also dedicated to my mum whose love of flowers always amazes me.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse   

—The good not done, the love not given, time   

Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because   

An only life can take so long to climb

                                                                                                                      (P.Larkin, Aubade)

\--

 

Louis has lived an ordinary, almost average life. He had a brilliant mother, amazing little sisters and a brother, a string of measly jobs to support his wife and daughter, and was passionate about his hobby. When he thinks back at all of the things he did in his youth and early adulthood, he can't help but smile at most of his memories. At the age of 72, there isn’t much he feels like he has missed – wishing he had done differently or took a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity that would have made him rich and famous – no, there isn’t that bitter sting in his chest reminding him that he could’ve had it good and that he wasted his life away.

Well.

Not really.

In fact, there was a certain dark cloud in his chest, a hole of some sorts that pinched him from time to time. And maybe that thing on the beginning of his third year at university could have played out differently but… Louis always reminds himself that there are always minor, every-day decisions that could change his life path. Maybe if he woke up a minute later that day, it could’ve changed something else in his life drastically. Besides, if everything didn’t happen the way it did, he’d probably miss out on the biggest challenge of his life.

And now that same challenge has left him in a retirement home because she is moving to fucking Sydney.

 

He can’t really expect that his daughter will take him with her to a whole new country. She is at the peak of her career, has her own family and Louis is an old geezer who refuses to set a foot out of England.  And besides, who would take care of him in Australia? Some laid-back, bleached dunce who will jump on the opportunity to rob Louis off everything he has to go surfing all day? Ha! Over Louis’ dead body.

If he’ll have someone rob him, he’d rather it be some _British_ knobhead.

So, after some negotiations, begging and pleading with Chloe and her husband, he checked in at Brunswick Gardens Village in Sheffield. It was a retirement village and Chloe bought him a one bedroom apartment there.

 

“We will visit on holidays and whenever we can. Okay, dad?” Chloe said to him with a soft expression on her face. He had finally moved all of his belongings into his apartment in the village. Her sparkling brown eyes looked into his and he smiled at her. “You won’t be lonely. There are nice people around here who will keep you company.”

Louis loved his daughter so much. There was a lot of him in her personality and mannerisms and he’d be thrilled whenever he saw something familiar. She was smart, sharp on her tongue, brave and a very striking individual; but Louis also realised that as much as you hope your own children will grow from your mistakes and clichés of life, sometimes -- quite unexpectedly – they will fall in the same traps too.

Chloe was always a smart mouth with him and never treated him like he was on the brink of death, but as soon as she saw him surrounded with stale smell and wheelchairs; she slipped into the sympathetic and pitying mood.

She treated him like a child, as if he couldn’t take care of himself. And he was annoyed at that.

“I know, love.” Louis sighed and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

Chloe smirked and pursed her lips. “Please behave, dad. I know all this isn’t what you’re used to and a lot of these people are slow to understand sarcasm on their best days. Just…give them a chance.”

Louis nodded seriously before bursting into laughter. “I’m sorry. I tried. You know I can’t do that. I can’t promise to be nice.”

“Well, at least try. Daddy, please.”

Louis’ heart skipped a beat. Chloe rarely used the ‘daddy’ term these days. Suddenly all he saw was a twelve year old girl, blinking at him with her big brown eyes full of tears after she fell off her bike.

“I promise. I love you, baby.” He whispered and she blushed.

“Dad, I’m almost 47 years old. I’m not a baby anymore.”

“You’re my child, Chloe. You’ll always be my baby. No matter how old you are.”

She smiled widely and looked away, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. “Okay. We’ll have to go before I start crying surrounded by all these strangers.”

Louis turned around, searching for a familiar face in the garden of the retirement village. “Where’s Samantha?”

“She….should be here. She went to get something in the restaurant, probably. I’ll go get her.” Chloe said and rushed across the garden to the sliding doors of the main entrance. Louis slumped on the bench and crossed his ankles.

He looked around, gaze falling on the three storey apartment buildings on his right and the brown roof of the left wing where even more apartments (including his own) were. In front of him was a glass building with lots of common rooms and shops.

This was going to be his home for… well, an indefinite time. It didn’t look intimidating. At least not too much. But Louis couldn’t help feeling like he lived through all that he could and now, it was time to give it a rest and only wait for death. Which was surely coming closer with each passing day. It was horribly depressing, but that was what retirement homes usually were about -- no matter how homey and full of opportunities they made themselves look like.

Chloe soon returned with Samantha in tow. His teenage granddaughter was truly the most beautiful and best thing he had ever seen. Beautiful like her mother, but stubborn like her grandpa. Or maybe it was the teenage years that were messing with her young mind. Whatever it was, she was now dragging her feet across the concrete path with a pout on her face and strongly suppressing an eye roll while her mother was lecturing her about disappearing in unfamiliar places without telling where she went.

“Say goodbye to your grandpa, Samantha.” Chloe said, whipping her phone out of her bag and making some phone calls.

Louis stood up and stepped closer to Samantha. She was blinking at him unsurely and looked around before she hugged him. “Bye, grandpa.”

“Goodbye, Sammy.” Louis said and squeezed her as tight as he could. “Take Sydney by storm, will you? Wreak havoc wherever you go. Make your old grandpa proud.”

Samantha laughed and hooked her chin over his shoulder. “You’re not old. And I will. If you stir shit up here.” She giggled when Chloe turned to reprimand her for her language. Louis laughed when Chloe turned away to talk with one of her co-workers. “If I don’t get one report about mysterious burning incidents from mum every month, I’ll start to think you’ve gone old and weak.”

“We can’t have that, now, can we?” Louis answered and stepped back. Samantha winked at him and stepped to join her mother towards the car in the car park. Chloe waved at Louis and then both of them disappeared in a slick black car at the corner of the street.

Something tugged at Louis’ heart and he couldn’t help feeling like he was left all alone in this world. Never to see either of them ever again.

 

\--

 

Two months passed since Louis joined the community at Brunswick Gardens Village.

He was fine.

He adapted pretty quickly, spotted the ticking time-bombs that could be roused up easily for his entertainment, met some nice ladies who chatted with him waiting for breakfast every day, and had a small poker group on Friday evenings.

People were nice. Most of the time. The staff had already taken a shining on him, especially few of the younger assistants and receptionists he had charmed. The nurses were extremely patient with him as he took his medication and during his biweekly blood tests and physical exams once a month. He was prone to throwing tantrums whenever he saw a needle.

The retirement village had 80% female residents and 20% male from all age groups, but most of them were 10 or so years younger than Louis. He felt a bit intimidated – surrounded by all these women – but he took it to his advantage by being one of the best-looking and fittest men there, and used his charm to get small favours and extra time in the Spa Room.

Week-days in the village were lively, as they could when there are 200+ old people living in a complex, with lots of different activities the staff planned. Bi-weekly there were theme nights in the restaurant with food and decorations. They played games and quizzes and it was a blast.

During the weekends when some families visited the residents was what Louis most looked forward to. Because sometimes small grandchildren would be running around and play, and it would make Louis smile so widely. He’d think of his Sammy then and call his family in Australia.

It wasn’t bad; he wasn’t particularly lonely except for when he would retreat to his apartment when everything closed in the village and went to sleep.

He would lie sometimes for hours in the soft sheets and stare at the white ceiling of his bedroom. He thought that the darkness in his room seeped slowly into his body and soul.

The small gap in his chest – right behind his sternum – was growing and it touched his heart with black smoke, engulfing it day by day. It had been there all his life. But he stomped on it and distracted himself from feeling it fully with work and care for his family. He thought that it would pass and that he should only get through this one day, this work hour, this dinner with Lily’s parents…

The chest pains and migraines he sometimes associated with stress were now staring at him in plain view. It was unfulfillment. It was the kind of feeling you have when you leave your house but have that nagging feeling that you’ve missed something important, yet you can’t  quite remember what it was. It was the kind of feeling where you try to find the last missing item on a puzzle but you can’t see it because you don’t recognise the word.

Louis Tomlinson was satisfied with his life and his achievements. But there was one thing he had never publicly acted upon. And he sometimes entertained the idea of stepping out of his comfort zone and do that final act of bravery.

But then he shook his head and buried his face into his pillow, hiding behind his age and nature which left more women alive and sliced down the number of men. Leaving the number of _gay men_ to Louis’ disadvantage.

 

\--

 

Louis stepped out of the shower on an unusually cold July morning. It started with his usual routine: waking up, making tea, checking TV for news on football results and a quick shower before going down to the restaurant for breakfast. It was going according to the routine but then Louis stopped in front of the full body mirror in the shower room.

He looked at his reflection, taking in all of his naked glory and he wrinkled his nose at what he saw. The biggest mistake he made was being over 30 years old, he decided.

He hated aging. He was always mortified of the fact he was going to get old and inevitably his health would keep him back from enjoying life to the fullest. He didn’t like what years had done to his looks either.

He looked at the bags under his eyes, the wrinkles on his forehead, and the way his whole face was sagging. He had a little beer belly which he couldn’t do anything about, no matter how frequently he played football. His skin was dry, reflecting the ravages of the time and had lost its suppleness.

Liver spots on his hands were far from elegant as he once admired them on his grandparents’; they were just brownish smudges all over the back of his hands. His once soft brown hair was almost entirely coloured white and grey. It also wasn’t as thick as it was before but thankfully the dreaded baldness hadn’t affected him too much. The only thing that seemed unaffected were his calves and feet which looked for the most part as if they belonged to a fit 40 year old, with the defined and firm muscles rippling under the slowly tanning skin.

Louis sighed and ruffled his hair a bit, and then walked to his bedroom to get dressed.

 

Donning dark blue chino shorts and the softest black jumper over a white T-shirt, Louis walked in the wide hallway of the common building. It was busy with people going to the breakfast buffet table and new people checking in.

They had three deaths the past week and the atmosphere was more sombre than he was used to.

He saw Jackie pushing a person in a wheelchair and going out of the reception room. Jackie was one of the youngest nurses on the Brunswick Gardens staff and she reminded Louis a lot of Samantha.

“Jackie, good morning.” He greeted her and smiled politely. Jackie flashed one of her brilliant smiles back at him, the early morning lights complimenting her dark skin and artificial light shining off her dark hair.

“Hello, Mr Tomlinson. How are you this morning?” she said and stopped the wheelchair away from the doors not to stop the flow of people going in and out.

“Been better. It’s awfully cold today, huh?” he commented and then glanced at the person in the wheelchair.

The man was slumped forward in his seat, the tops of his sneakers turned inwards and looking up at Louis with bright eyes and friendly smile. His hair was short, once dark hair streaked with grey and curling at the ends adorably. His eyes were big and green, and his face was slim with several wrinkles around his eyes indicating he smiled a lot in his life.

“Hello.” Louis said and the man’s smile widened.

“Hello.” The man’s voice was raspy and deep. It suited him well. It had none of the sharpness that Louis’ voice was rich with, something his once high voice sucked in with numerous packs of cigarettes he smoked through most of his life.

They stared at each other for a long while when Jackie cleared her throat. “Mr Tomlinson, this is Harry Styles. He’s the newest member of our community. Just arrived today.”

Louis extended his hand towards Harry and smiled sweetly. “I’m Louis.”

“Harry. Nice to meet you.” Harry shook his hand and his smile never wavered. “What do you do for fun around here?”

Louis chuckled. “Lots of things. There’s a gym over there and crafts club, sometimes there are dance lessons-“ He choked and glanced at Harry’s legs awkwardly. “Um…sorry.”

Harry laughed and wiggled with his knees a bit. “It’s okay. I can walk, just not for long. And I probably won’t get to dance but I can do crafts. Do they make flower arrangements?”

Louis shrugged. “I have no idea. Never been at one of their classes.” He looked at Jackie for some help.

She smiled at him, her eyes glinting over something. “Maybe you can show him around, Mr Tomlinson? You have that poker night tonight, right?”

Louis’ eyes widened in delight. “Yes! I do. Uhm. What do you say, Harry? Do you play poker?”

Harry looked between Jackie and Louis and bit his lip nervously. “Uhm…not really? Never learned to play.”

Louis patted him on the shoulder. “You’re missing out, mate. It’s a wonderful game.” He smiled to ease Harry’s nerves. He knew how Harry was feeling; it was too much on one’s first day when a complete stranger invited him to mingle on his very first day with other strangers in an unfamiliar place. “I’ll teach you.” 

“Okay.” Harry nodded simply and turned to Jackie. “Is it okay if I go to my room now? I’m…I’m a bit tired.”

Jackie nodded and pushed him forward and then turned to Louis to say goodbye. Harry waved at him with a small smile on his face, shouting a ‘nice to meet you Louis’ and wheeled towards the lifts towards the apartments in the east wing.

The wing Louis just came from.

So…he would be living in the same building as Harry. For some reason that thought excited him. Harry seemed like a solid man, probably up for some pranks if the opportunity arose.

This should be fun.

 

\--

 

Louis didn’t see Harry that entire day, not even for poker in the Lounge Room as he had promised. It didn’t trouble him too much, at the end of the day the man was new here and probably had to adjust to his new life. Maybe cry for a while, like Louis did his first night there. He’d see him once Harry relaxed a bit.

Which was in the breakfast line the following morning.

“Hello, Louis.” He heard a familiar voice from behind him and clutched the bagel on his plate. His grip on things wasn’t as it used to be. He turned around and faced Harry’s sparkly green eyes and dimpled smile. _Oh_.

“Hello.” He said and Harry reached next to him to get a plate of his own.

“Had a good sleep?” Louis attempted the small talk. He always had a knack for talking with anyone about anything, a special talent he often showed off these days.

Harry nodded and put a bagel of his own on his plate. “It was alright. Wasn’t much different than when I was in my own home.”

Louis moved forward in the line, towards the bacon and bangers. “Oh? Why?”

Harry sighed and waited for Louis to move so he could reach for fruit salad and smoothies. His moves were quick; his long fingers moving carefully through the air and grabbed things. “I lived alone for thirty years.”he said quietly.

Louis almost tripped on flat surface. Harry didn’t seem like the loner type. He imagined him living with his children at least or with a wife who had passed away recently. Harry said it like he was ashamed of it and Louis didn’t like it.

 “Really? How are you adjusting to life with a bunch of other old people?” Louis said jokingly and reached for a mug next to the beverage machines with orange juice and hot cocoa. He took the big kettle with tea next to them.

Harry poured orange juice in his glass and put a hand on the wheel, balancing a plate in his lap and a half full glass in one hand. “Uhm..? Louis, could you he-“

“Oh, yeah… of course!” Louis said and put his plate down to help move Harry towards an empty table. Wheels glided over the polished marble floor and Louis gripped the handles tightly. When Harry settled on his spot behind the table, Louis retrieved his own plate and sat opposite him.

“Everything alright? Do you need anything?”

Harry shook his head and picked up his spoon. “I’m fine, thank you.” His tone was tired and snippy, like he already said too much than he was used to.

Louis looked at him, empathy picking at his insides. While Louis knew how to talk someone’s ear off and grab attention, he also knew when to stop and keep quiet. He didn’t want to invade Harry’s privacy and personal space too much. So, he kept to himself and ate his breakfast.

They didn’t talk for several minutes, only glancing at each other occasionally on the opposite ~~s~~ ends of the table. Louis wondered about his life when he looked up at the old man opposite him. Harry couldn’t be much older than him, he might even be younger. It was the presence of a wheelchair that made him look older and more experienced than what Louis thought was true. He wondered if Harry had any family left or was forced against his will to live there because he couldn’t take care of himself anymore.

Watching Harry’s short hair, still dark and curly in some places, he wondered about everything that made Harry’s life up until this point in time.

Then Harry put his spoon down.

“Hey, Louis? I-I’m sorry if I’m bothering you or seem unfriendly… I’m usually not, I just… I’m trying to adjust to this new environment, you know? And… yeah.”

Louis blinked up at him and rushed to reassure him. “No, no. Harry, you’re fine. You’re not bothering me.” He smiled at the hunched man in front of him who was biting his lip. “This was all new for me too. I came here two months ago and I locked myself in the apartment for two days straight.” He said and pushed his plate aside. “It’s hard. Especially when you’ve lived alone for a long time. I… Me too, actually, I’ve been alone too. For a long time.” Louis patted Harry’s hand on top of the table. “You’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Harry said softly, eyes dropping down and pulling his clasped hands on top of his lap. He took a deep breath before looking up at Louis again, making a big decision in his head. “Do you have any commitments today? Would you mind showing me around? I don’t know anybody here.”

As a man with a whole lot of years on his back, Harry was so shy and self-conscious that it was warming Louis’ heart. It was refreshing to see that someone hadn’t lost his innocence and became a cold-hearted shrieking and ignorant old dick.

“No. I’m free all day.”

Harry’s dimples emerged again and he nodded, all pleased with the turn of events. “I heard they have a green house here? Could you show me that first?”

 

Louis pushed Harry through the main hall of the common building, and they both glided across towards the glass doors of the community’s greenhouse. Louis had never been inside and he didn’t know if he should’ve ditched his jumper before going inside or if they were even allowed inside in the first place. But ‘not being allowed somewhere’ hardly kept Louis away. Especially if it would make his new friend smile and ease the anxiety he was feeling.

Louis pulled the heavy doors and held them back while Harry wheeled inside carefully. The first blow of hot air caressed Louis’ face and he immediately regretted wearing his jumper, even as thin as it was. He entered after Harry and looked around. 

To Louis it was nothing special. A row of dwarf fruit trees was lined against one wall, flower pots filled with colourful flowers of all kinds were all around and there were three rows with vegetables, each labelled: tomatoes, carrots, salad.

The glass walls were stretching high upwards and the ceiling was wide and high, soaking in all of the warmth and sunshine in the cold and cloudy July weather. Louis wanted to ask Harry if they could go back, somewhere with normal temperatures but then Harry turned to him from where he was looking at a small bush of white flowers.

Harry was, for the lack of better description and words - beaming. There was some contentment in his features that soared to the air through his wide dimpled smile. Louis kept his mouth shut.

“Hey, Louis. Do you know anything about flowers?” Harry asked him when he turned back to the bush. Louis walked over to him and looked at the bush again.

“No. I’ve never really paid attention to them, sorry.” He said, embarrassed slightly over his admission. Harry glanced up and smiled reassuringly at him. “That’s okay. Do you recognise this flower, maybe?”

Louis leaned closer to the short bush. His back protested a bit at his sudden exertion. He straightened his back and murmured under his breath. “Daisies? Miniature roses?” He scratched his two day old beard. “Really weird snowdrops?”

Harry barked out a sudden laugh so loud that caught his throat surprise. He leaned forward and coughed in his hand for few minutes to calm down. Louis put his hand on his back and massaged it making circles with his palm. 

“There you go.” Louis said quietly, almost whispering, when Harry finally calmed down and looked up at him with watery eyes. He hardly noticed their sudden proximity and when he noticed that his cheeks were firing up he butted in with a tease: “It wasn’t even that funny, Harry.”

Harry shook his head, his eyes still searching over Louis’ face. “Yeah, uhm… It took me by surprise. Sucks being old.”

Louis hummed in agreement and stepped back. “I hear ya mate.”

“But it has his benefits, right? Cheap food, young medical assistants giving you baths…” Harry smirked at him. Louis laughed and turned to the flower bush once again.

“What were you saying about this lovely bush before you almost died?”

“Oh. Yeah. These are camellias. They are considered queens among flowering bushes, you know?” Harry said, caressing one of the delicate white blossoms. Its tiny petals bent under Harry’s pale fingers and Louis was mesmerised by the sight. “The Chinese call them tea flowers.”

“Why?” Louis asked quizzically. He couldn’t care less about flowers but Harry’s fascination had him hooked for some reason.

“I have no idea. Read it on the Internet few years back.” Harry sniggered and turned towards some other pots with roses and something Louis recognised as hyacinth.

“My sister was allergic to one of these.” He pointed at bulbous blue flower near Harry.

“Hyacinth? Really?”

“Yeah. Only allergy she ever had. It was weird. Like I sometimes picked daisies from the back yard of the house we lived in as kids, and put under her nose and nothing. Not even a tiny sneeze. But if that thing was in the same room as her, she’d always have trouble breathing and stuff.” Louis explained animatedly, waving around with his hands in the most flamboyant way since his early twenties. He quickly pressed his hands on his chest, looking if Harry noticed. He didn’t seem to, if Louis ignored the small quirk to his lips.

“You have a sister?” Harry asked and poked at a pink rose protruding from a pot.

“Uhm…yeah. Six of them. And a brother.” Louis’ voice thinned towards the end of the sentence. He loved talking about his siblings to anyone, he was so proud of all of them. But he hadn’t heard in over two years from any of them, which caused Louis great pain. He thought that their mother’s passing left some big marks on them and they just needed some space. They had their own lives, across continents and the country. And they all chased after their own careers. Charlotte was a talk show host somewhere in Asia, Felicité moved to Canada after UNI, the first set of twins had travelled all around the world before settling in Hungary, and Doris and Ernest went somewhere in the South of England. They contacted each other frequently at first -- wherever they were -- visited their mother and stepfather during holidays yet as they all grew older, the visits were more rare but they still knew what each of them was up to.

Up until their mother’s funeral five years ago.

“Do flowers carry a meaning? Is that a real thing?” Louis asked, trying to change the subject quickly to avoid emotional confessions to strangers, and coming to stand next to Harry again. If Harry noticed Louis’ hands shaking and quick change of subject, he didn’t tell. So far, Harry seemed to be extremely polite when he noticed Louis didn’t want to talk about something and point out the subject of Louis’ nerves. Louis was very grateful for that.

“Like if you give someone a lily or a rose, would there be a hidden meaning for the receiver?”

Harry nodded. “Of course. If I gave you this pink rose, it’d mean admiration or appreciation.”

Louis blinked down at Harry who seemed unperturbed by his own words. He carried on touching the flowers with his gentle hands. “And if I gave you a daisy, it’d mean innocence.”

“Oh.” was all that came from Louis’ mouth.

They stood there (or sat in Harry’s case) in silence for several beats. Then Louis whispered shyly. “Which one is your favourite?”

Harry huffed satisfyingly. “Sunflowers. Or tulips. Haven’t made my mind up still.”

“What do they mean?” Louis asked, sensing the frailness in the air, so he matched his voice with the atmosphere.

“Sunflowers mean adoration. Tulips mean different things, depending on colour. But all positive things. Pinks are caring; reds are declaration of love…” He scratched his leg absentmindedly. “Why are we whispering?”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Uhm… I don’t know?” He went silent for a moment. “Hey, how do you know all this stuff about flowers?”

“Can you please open the door for me?” Harry asked almost demandingly instead and put his hands on his wheels, ready to roll himself on the concrete path.

“Yeah, sure.” Louis jumped to accommodate him. He pulled the doors wide again, helping Harry out without trouble. “Here ya go, Mr Styles.”

Harry grinned, but Louis could see it was strained. When Louis closed the door firmly and turned to ask him where to next, Harry frowned and put his palms on his lap.

“Thank you for this, Louis. I’ll go to my apartment now. I’ll see you for dinner?” He asked and after Louis’ confused nod, he pushed himself towards the entrance to the east wing.

Louis looked at him, wondering if he had said something wrong.

 

\--

 

“Barbara, Mary.” Louis looked at the two ladies seated at their usual table for dinner who cheered happily when they turned around and saw him. “How are we this fine evening?”

Barbara’s eyes glinted in the artificial light of the restaurant. “Fantastic now that you are here, Mr Tomlinson.” She said and curved her lip flirtatiously. Louis cringed at the sight. “You still owe that one-on-one poker lesson, darling.”

Mary laughed at her friend’s shameless words and patted Louis’ elbow reassuringly. “Forgive her, Louis, she’s experiencing some late menopause flashes.” Barbara glared at her. Mary ignored her and looked up at him, and then around the room. 

“Where’s your friend? The one in the wheelchair you had breakfast with this morning?” she asked and Louis shrugged. 

“He went to his apartment; he said he wasn’t feeling well.” Louis too looked around, just in case he missed Harry going around for his meal. “He’ll be down for dinner here, surely.”

“That man looks like he had a fantastic hair in his youth. So luscious, probably curly even. Like my late husband Charles. Do you remember Charles, Barbara?”

Barbara nodded, picking at the mashed peas in her plate. “A handsome man, indeed, Charles was. Dumb as a post, but always up for a joke.”

Louis smiled at the two ladies and excused himself to grab a plate of his own. He filled it with delicious food and happily ate his meal. After that he chatted with some of the men who were his poker buddies most Friday nights.

During all this time, Harry never came down to the common building.

 

\--

 

Louis’ heart started beating again and rose from the pit of his stomach when he saw Harry wheeling in in the restaurant for breakfast the next day. He was beginning to worry for the man, against his better judgement. He was worried Harry was depressed and would harm himself if he stayed alone for longer periods of time. Which could easily happen in a retirement home, despite being surrounded by other people.

Harry had been living alone for a long time and it could be a shock to someone his age to be suddenly encompassed with human contact. Louis was bloody worried, alright? Irrationally and too much, but let no man say Louis Tomlinson doesn’t care.

“Harry, hello.” He said and walked straight to the man in the wheelchair, almost startling him at the very entrance to the restaurant. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Louis.” Harry beamed at him, as if nothing happened and they hadn’t seen each other in over a day. “I like your shoes.”

Louis looked down at his feet clad in his old trainers and smiled at Harry. “Me and some other mates will play football at the field few miles from the village. Some volunteers came to help us and play with us.”

Harry’s brows scrunched. “The young lads who were just outside in the hall? They’re volunteers?”

“Yeah. Some girls will be with us too. Mostly getting drinks and whatnot. Some of the ladies will come and watch. It’s just a friendly game.” He looked eagerly at Harry, but tried to appear casual. “Maybe you can come too. If you want. You can watch me score all the goals.” He winked at Harry.

Harry laughed and smiled cheekily at him. “You’ll have to wear some shorts then, if I’m going to watch you run around all day. You need to keep your audience entertained.”

Louis huffed, embarrassed by Harry’s words. “Cheeky, Harry. I like it.” But he put it in the back of his head to wear his black shorts, just in case.

The two men sat down at a table, far away from the commotion and ate their meals. Harry commented on the freshness of his tomatoes and Louis offered him some of his mushrooms. They exchanged a few friendly words about the weather and possible outcome of the next Man U game against Tottenham.

“Harry, uhm… if there’s anything you need, like if you have a problem or just want to chat, you know I’ll always be available. Ok?”

Harry looked at him, a fork with scrambled eggs dangling few inches from his mouth. He put it down and stared at Louis with big eyes. “Ok. I understand.”

“Really, Harry. For anything you need. No matter how silly you think it is.”

“I’m fine. Where’s this coming from, Louis?”

Louis pushed his almost empty plate away so he could lean forward on his forearms and look directly at Harry. “We seem to get along, right? You seem like a solid bloke and I really don’t want to see you struggle with anything. But…” he scratched his palm, “I don’t know what to make out of your disappearance yesterday. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I can’t help feeling like I’ve said something wrong. Have I?”

Harry sighed sadly and abandoned his fork and the meal completely. He stared at his glass of orange juice, without lifting his head to look at Louis. “No. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it? Is something bothering you, love?” Louis asked and cringed mentally at the use of endearment. This particular endearment he often used with his sisters and ironically with his best friend Stan. It surprised him how suddenly it slipped out of his mouth with someone he knew so little about. He hoped Harry misheard.

Harry reached across the table and patted Louis’ clasped palms. “I’m fine, really. It’s just… It’s… I’m scared.” Harry looked up at him with a shy expression. “I’m a very private person, you know? And it takes me a long time to get close to people, especially after…. Uhm ….”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Harry. I respect that being alone for over thirty years and then suddenly being around so many people is overwhelming. I’ve told you this before, right?”

Harry nodded.

“Yeah.” Louis continued and softened his features. “Whatever you’ll need you can come to me. I’m not going to judge.”

“I don’t… I have friends, you know? And I’ve been really close to my mother and sister, and the rest of my family. It was hard for me after…”

“After?”

“You… you were married, right?” Harry almost whispered the question. Louis saw him picking at his thumbnail nervously.

“Yes, I was. But she died a really long time ago.” Louis answered shortly. He didn’t want to discuss this with Harry. Not now, at least.

“You had a wife.” Harry repeated, almost in a daze. Almost like he was surprised and disappointed over the new piece of information. Louis didn’t understand.

“Yes.”

Harry nodded and fixed his frown into a small smile. “When’s your football game? I can’t miss that, can I?”

Louis frowned at Harry’s strange tone but answered him: ”An hour after breakfast. Will you really come?”

Harry nodded, his features less tense and the air between them growing less awkward. “I won’t miss it. Promise.”

 

The volunteers quickly organised the entire event. There was food, the goal posts were secured and the benches for the spectators freshly renewed. Everything was set for a splendid evening of football.

Louis was really excited. Usually he went on his own on the field and ran around with his ball however he pleased. But this was participating with men his age mixed with some of the younger people, and a small audience of elderly women who were gaping openly at the athletic males in shorts and trainers.

 _To each his own_ , Louis thought. He was here to have fun.

He was stretching carefully with Mike O’Connelly, fellow poker buddy and football enthusiast like Louis, when he spotted Jackie coming to the benches, pushing Harry in his wheelchair over wet ground. He smiled when he saw the grey haired man and waved to him. Harry smiled and waved back. He quickly apologized to Mike and jogged to where Harry was, sitting next to the benches. He had a soft and worn-out quilt over his legs, despite the air being warm and the sunny sky. 

“Hello, Harry.” He squinted at him and pushed his messy hair from his forehead. “You came.”

Harry smiled brightly and bit his lip. “Like I promised. I’m a man of my word, Louis.”

“You’re wearing shorts.” Harry commented and a dimple appeared in his cheek.

“Uhm… I guess. They said I had to wear them.” Louis answered, a bit puzzled at Harry’s words.

“And it had nothing to do with my suggestion at the breakfast?”

Louis looked at him confusedly. “No. What did you suggest?”

Now Harry looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. “Just an hour and a half ago…I said that-“

Referee blew into his whistle, interrupting Harry and startling Louis.

“Oh. That’s my signal. Gotta score lots of goals, Harry.” He said and ran to his team mates.

 

By the end of the 60 minute game (which to Louis was unfair to keep it short all because they’re a bit older), Louis was thoroughly wet from running and chasing the ball and his joints were violently protesting from any further movement. Harry steadily watched from his spot near the benches and cheered with the others at appropriate times. Louis scored twice and was pretty pleased with his athleticism. _Take that, old age_.

He walked slowly towards the edge of the field, and Jackie tossed him a clean towel and smiled.

“Looking good, Mr Tomlinson.” She said and Louis hid his blush sweeping with his hand through the small leftover of his fringe. 

“Not bad for an old man?” he said.

Jackie nodded. “Never said you were old. But you’re handling yourself well despite your age. I was just telling Harry how good your last blood results were.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for you constant nagging about the lack of fruit in my diet…”

“Fruit is good for you.” Harry quipped suddenly, “and we should play chess.” he added quietly. Louis looked down at him and saw that he was sitting up straight in his wheelchair and kept looking at Louis’ face. He was also nervously playing with his fingers. Louis didn’t quite understand what was going on with Harry the whole morning.

“Uhm… yeah. Ok, Harry.” Louis said.

“You should probably change, Mr Tomlinson? And shower?” Jackie asked and grabbed the handles of Harry’s wheelchair, ready to take him back to the retirement village. Harry folded up his quilt and put his palms on top of it.

“Ok. Meet you in the greenhouse, okay Harry?” Louis said before Jackie pushed him too far away.

“Sure.”

 

\--

 

If you ask Louis, there is a certain peace that comes with old age. It’s not always evident and a lot of people mistake it for senility or some other old people’s disease, but it’s there. It is the same peace children experience up till puberty. It’s serenity that encompasses your soul and empties your head so there are no big exclamation points like the ones that pop up during your adolescence or adulthood. There is no rush, no stress, nothing of the kind if you’re satisfied with your life more or less.

Some days Louis loves the feeling; loves how full he feels and how soft everything is – almost like he could float to the clouds if he doesn’t hang onto something. There are no stress factors present in his life. If he doesn’t allow them to appear.

But sometimes, there are these guilty reminders that Louis soaks up easily. And which he can’t help.

Mostly because he thinks of his wife.

And that is a topic Louis still has conflicted feelings about.

One such thing happened when Louis met up with Harry in the greenhouse after the football game. Harry was already there, sitting in his wheelchair and despite the humidity and warmth in the greenhouse, his soft quilt was thrown over his legs. He greeted Louis cheerfully; his weird little episode on the field all forgotten by the time Louis laid his eyes on him.

It was strange really.

Louis was feeling pretty sore from all the running and kicking the ball around, yet his feet almost skipped in his step when he pushed the greenhouse doors open and saw the grey- haired man sitting there, fiddling with his fingers. His stomach fluttered excitedly and it had nothing to do with the spicy soup from the day before (he’s pretty sure). In this small time frame he’d been hanging out with Harry and slowly, at snail’s pace, getting to know him he’d been excited. More of the fact that Harry was holding his cards so close to his chest, and he wanted to open him like a book and gaze at all of his secrets. Louis was naturally curious.

And Harry was an enigma he would dedicate his last years to figure out.

“Hello, Harry.” He said and dragged the ratty wooden chair he begged Jackie to find in the storage for him next to Harry’s wheel.

“Hello, Louis.” Harry said and continued to play with something in his hands. He didn’t even look up at Louis. Maybe Louis should start to feel offended for the lack of attention.

“Good game.” Louis commented after a minute of silence. He was starting to love these slots of comfortableness between them, where they didn’t need to talk. It was rare for Louis to enjoy calm moments with anyone – he was a gregarious and loud, loud, loud person.

Harry smiled privately, just a tug of lips on his face. “It was good. You were really good. Really fit.”

Louis’ face almost split in half because of his wide smile. “Thank you. I try to exercise and keep my lazy bones moving but – eh.”

Harry nodded and continued to fiddle with that same thing in his lap. Something flat and rectangular was in Harry’s hands and he played with it – turning it over and touching the smooth spaces with his thumb.

“What you got there, Harold?” Louis asked and leaned closer into Harry’s personal space to get a better look. Louis was hit with a soft smell of flowers and apples, with a distinct musty smell. Harry glanced up and put the thing down, covering it with his hand completely.

“Nothing. Just…nothing…”

“Harry.” Louis said exasperatedly and took a deep breath. “I’m trying here, yeah?” Louis earnestly said, leaning few inches back so he wouldn’t intimidate Harry but he had to resolve this annoying habit of Harry’s to back away when Louis wants to get more friendly.

“I know you said it’s hard for you to relax around people and that it’s all new to you but you’re not really trying to let anyone come to you. I’ve tried to get you to talk to me for weeks now and all you’ve done is run when I poke at something you’re scared to let me know.” He took a deep breath. “I really like you. You’re great but this is a two way thing, yeah? You’ve got to try, too.”

Harry blinked at him. And then his bottom lip wobbled with his chin like he was going to cry.

“Oh, no, no… Sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“No, you’re right. It’s…I’m stupid. But it’s been really tough and I’ve sort of gotten used to avoid people and not talk about things. Things that hurt me.”

Louis held his breath. If he interrupted Harry then, he might not get him to talk anymore. So he waited.

Harry reached out for him, took his hand and placed the rectangular thing in his palm. Louis looked down and noticed it was a brooch. A familiar one as well. He brought it to his face to have a better look. It was rectangular, like a small polished silver mirror with a silver kitten with it’s paws pressed on one corner of it – looking at itself in the mirror. It was adorable.

“I’m fine. Most of the time. Memories are good but it sucks when you don’t have the person to reminisce about them. The person you made the memories with.” Harry said simply, but the words echoed in Louis’ brain. Then he gasped and almost dropped the brooch when a faint feeling crept up his lungs. He knew why the decoration was so familiar.

His late wife had the exactly same one.

That guilty feeling was biting at his insides again and he heard echoes of a familiar laughter in his head, words and a flash of a smile…everything so familiar and good. He felt ashamed that he barely spared few thoughts about her since he met Harry.  After all, she was everything he knew about support, friendship and love even when it wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to be.

He was probably staring too long without speaking so Harry touched his knee gently with a following: “Louis? Are you alright?”

Louis tore his eyes from the brooch and smiled tentatively. “I…”

“Do you need to lie down? All that running without proper resting can’t be good for you.”

“No. No, I’m fine. I just had…”

“What?”

Louis hesitated before speaking. “Have I ever told you about my wife?” He felt like a dam of feelings burst and he was ready to spill all of his thoughts and overflow Harry with it. Harry shook his head no without looking away, still staring at Louis’ face.

Louis took it as an invitation to continue. “She…Her name was Lily.” He started and felt his heart pump lazily with the warmth of the memories. Of Lily’s round face and her smile. “She was brilliant, you know? Really smart, and kind and she always put up with my messes. Not that I deserved it. She…” He paused, feeling much too bold to continue.

“How did you meet?” Harry prompted and squeezed Louis’ knee to continue. Louis put the brooch down in his own lap and took a deep breath.

“I was 24 when I first met her. It was my second year of uni and she was just finishing her first. One of my mates had a party and we were introduced. It was the middle of the eighties, you know. Different time. Anyway…I wasn’t really into her. Well, she was pretty and had a big head of hair but I just didn’t feel _that_ connection on my part. She was still great and we were soon friends.”

“We talked…went to clubs…the usual. Everyone we knew was commenting that we should be a couple and that we looked good together but we just laughed it off.” He paused for a moment. “But then…it was the beginning of my final year at uni when we both got really pissed. I was sort of struggling with some things I’ve discovered about myself so… Anyway, three months later she told me she was pregnant.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh, wait. I thought… You said she was your-“

“Yeah, had to do the right thing.” Louis shrugged self-depreciatively. “She insisted she was going to be fine and that I should do what I wanted, be with someone I genuinely loved but…love or no love, she still had my baby. My Chloe. I think she knew what was bothering me and wanted to do the right thing too.”

“What was it?” Harry asked, lining his upper body more toward Louis. “That thing that was troubling you?”

“I-I was…am gay.” Louis stuttered. “I’m gay.”

He thought that the first time he would say the words out loud would also be the time the ground will open, bushes will be aflame and sun’s light will flare at him like a spotlight so everyone will know what he is. He imagined a crowd suddenly gathering around him, curious and laughing, and examining him like an animal at the zoo. He imagined some of them standing ready with pitchforks and stones and waiting for the signal by some divine being, hail or draught, that they could blame on him for being the way he is.

Maybe Louis was a tad overdramatic.

Of course none of that happened. Birds still chirped outside, elderly men and women were walking outside in the hall of the common building, going to and minding their own business. No holes, no flares. Just Louis and Harry in the greenhouse, surrounded by plants.

Harry blinked without a reaction. “Oh.” And then he nodded.

“Yeah.” Louis smiled, visibly relaxed after he uttered the words to another person. Out loud. It was so freeing.

“So you stayed together?” Harry prompted him to finish his story.

“Yeah. Twenty years.”

Harry’s eyes went wide with surprise but then his brow furrowed. “But…how did you-? Did you get a divorce then?”

Louis shook his head. “No. I loved her. I had to take care of our daughter. And we were sort of good together. She became my best friend. And she was full of understanding when I tried to spend few months in early 2000s partying and hooking up with men.” Louis chuckled at the memories. “But I…well, not gonna lie, that was fun, but… I had a family to support so I pushed it aside and focused on them.”

“Where- uhm… what happened to her?”

“She died when I was 45. A car accident.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine now. I’m fine. I had Chloe and through time it got easier. I miss her _so much_ sometimes, y’know? She had a terrible sense of humour.”

Harry nodded and smiled wistfully. “That’s good. That despite all of the stuff that happened, you didn’t end like most of other couples.”

“I guess.” Louis shrugged and then handed Harry the brooch back. “She had a brooch exactly like this one. She used to wear it to church all the time.” Louis scratched his nose nervously, “That’s why I was bugging you with my story.”

“It wasn’t bugging at all!” Harry was quick to reassure, “it…oh. Well, this one was my sister’s. It was her favourite too, and she wore it all the time. “

“Wore?”

Harry nodded sadly. “She died few years back.”

“I’m sorry.” Louis said compassionately and was silently delighted that Harry was sharing something personal with him. Harry nodded and turned the brooch in his hand, face up. 

Louis decided that maybe it was enough bonding time and that maybe he should leave Harry alone for a while. Just to not overwhelm him too much.

“I had a husband.” Harry said quietly that Louis almost missed it. His heart was starting to beat too loud in his ears.

“Excuse me?”

Harry straightened in his seat. “I was married, too. Uhm… We were together for ten years.”

Louis smiled too bright at his words. Harry was like him! And apparently was open about his feelings so much that once he found a man who he wanted to marry and did it. Without shame or self-loathing. Louis was amazed.

“Any children?”

Harry shook his head. “Never got the chance. I wanted to, so much, wanted a full house of them but…” He swallowed a lump in his throat. 

Louis put a hand on his shoulder and then squeezed his hand. “D’you want to take a nap maybe? I’m feeling a bit knackered.” He smiled as widely as he could manage, “All that running is slowly taking a toll on me old bones.”

“You’re not old, Lou.” Harry said with wet eyes.

“Tell that to my ID and bowels, Harold.” Louis countered and Harry laughed. Happy that Harry was smiling once again but he put in the back of his head to keep him in check and definitely get him to pour out his emotions once he wasn’t feeling so emotionally drained himself. He wasn’t too put out and queasy when people were telling him their stories, he thoroughly encouraged speaking their minds and getting their emotions out, but he knew when to do that and when he could be of help and when they felt obliged telling him anything.

Harry must have felt obliged after Louis told him his own story and he didn’t want Louis to feel too bare and he wanted to make himself a bit vulnerable as well – out of solidarity – but Louis couldn’t let him do it now. It needed to be when Harry felt more comfortable and if he wanted to.

So he put his hands on the handlebars of Harry’s wheelchair and rolled him out of their greenhouse.

 

\--

 

Something shifted.

The heart-to-heart talk they had in the greenhouse was a breaking point of some sort. It could’ve gone up or down after that but during the week after, it seemed like it was going up.

Harry was more open and cheerful – letting Louis and everyone else see his shining and charming soul as it was. He was still a bit guarded but he was also smiling a lot more. Whenever he was in the same room as Louis, he kept glancing across the room where Harry was sitting in his wheelchair and entertaining ladies who were knitting in one corner of the Craft Room. He was gesturing wildly with his hands and retelling one of his long and probably pointless stories of his days working in a bakery as a boy.

It was endearing and Louis’ heart filled with warmth. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Or didn’t want to _fully_ acknowledge it by _verbal_ expression. It was nice to just keep this casual friendship and these _feelings_ and warmth when Louis started to fear his old heart strings were beginning to decay. But it was also nice to feel something else gnawing at his insides other than a nasty constipation.

Yes, that was all there could be. Louis didn’t dare to hope for more, just enjoyed this beautiful serendipity called Harry Styles. 

It was for his own enjoyment in the quiet hours of the night when he was alone or when he was sitting in the Spa Room, soaking in his sweat, but especially when Harry and him were eating their meals in the restaurant.

Louis reassured himself numerous times that it was a rather hopeless road from the beginning. Harry was charming people left and right, just by his mere presence and dimpled smile.

It was mostly because Harry was so beautiful, with all of his wrinkles and slow, lazy movements and his smell, and because he was telling Louis more and more about himself.

Louis heard little quips like ‘I played guitar for some years like that’ or ‘My flower shop was the most popular in the small town where I lived’ or even ‘My mum made roast and potatoes just like this’ which were nothing to an untrained ear but Louis was storing everything coming out of Harry’s mouth. 

It wasn’t all perfect. Louis started to forget a lot of things. And had to be told twice about some inane things like birthday parties of some residents, start of some presentations or craft workshops Harry was eager to attend, and his bloody keys.

It was the trouble of growing old; Louis tried to ease his mind. But he had never felt more helpless than when he had had to double check the bowl next to the entrance of his apartment or when he had misplaced the remote control in his living room. It was especially sickening when others noticed it. Jackie would give him a sympathetic smile and offer him some more tea, and the other elders knowingly nodded with their heads.

 

“It’s awful, right?” Louis said at his usual poker game night, sitting with Mark, Sonny, Kevin and Mike. Even Harry finally joined them. “Seeing some of the older kids come here and their looks, wishing we were dead and stop being a burden…”

“Wrinklin’ their snotty lil’ noses when we walk by…”Mike added and rearranged his cards carefully.

“Not to mention ignoring you on the bus to the city. Buggers never get up to let you sit.” Sonny shared and peeked unsubtly into Kevin’s hand. The group laughed at that.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Kevin said after they settled down, “no respect, nothing. Are we really needed anymore? We’ve served our time for the society, why do we even bother avoiding kicking the bucket?”

“A waste of space and money.” Sonny grumbled under his breath, eyeing others and their cards suspiciously.

The mood in the group was weirdly gloomy. It was sort of Louis’ fault for bringing it up, instead of firing them up with jokes and pranks; he was constantly thinking about the incident few days ago with Cathy Breckin. It was a shouting match between her and one of the nurses that wanted to give her her medicine. Apparently, Cathy thought that she already had her medicine and accused the nurse of trying to poison her. If it weren’t for intervention of one of the volunteers on their shift, Cathy would probably have hurt the nurse.

Rumours spread fast that Cathy was suffering from Alzheimer’s. And it was one in the advanced stages.

“Because,” Harry started, not talking his eyes off his cards, “we’re not really dead and useless. I mean, we still have things to do and offer to the world. We can still feel…things. And do things.” He looked up at Louis when he said that, “and our knowledge hasn’t just disappeared. We… we’re here. And we matter.”

Harry blinked around at each member of the group when they all nodded with loud exclamations of ‘yes, boy’ and ‘that’s talkin’ fellas’ while Louis just smiled at him from across the table and winked.

Harry ducked his head and blushed, pleased by their reactions and then focused on his hand. Just like Louis, he was determined to win on his initiation night with his poker group. Louis would allow it, but he had a ruthless reputation to maintain and that included crushing all of them and stealing all of their Spa Room slot times and chips.

“Enough of this blabbering , lads. Let’s play this darn game.” Mike said squinting at his cards and making mental calculations. “I’m plannin’ a long soakin’ in that hot bath and I first need to beat ya bastards.”

The group laughed and they began to play. It was an unusually long game of poker because they had a new member and they had to show him his place. They were a close group and only occasionally a new person would be allowed to play, it was customary to make the new one suffer a bit – or rob him of all his Spa privileges for a month like they did.

Louis went through the same thing. He couldn’t even look at the Spa for a whole bloody week (Officially that was the deal, but he bribed Kareem at the front desk and sneaked in when the others were too busy).

Now it was Harry’s turn to suffer.

They shuffled and reshuffled the deck of cards, glanced at each other menacingly and cracked jokes to distract one another. It was a proper old lads’ game. Harry was steadily losing at the beginning and other men were easily convinced that just a few more rounds and they’ll steal all of his chips. They relaxed too easily.

Louis was a bit distracted and lost some of his chips too carelessly but he was determined to get them back. Maybe he’d share his reward with Harry because the man was looking proper miserably at his cards and tried to figure out what to do. Louis felt sorry for him. But he would be there to comfort him if the loss turns out to be disastrous. Until then he can pull his leg.

“Hey, Styles. How’s it going?” Louis asked, smirking over his cards. Harry glared at him but looked more like a disgruntled frog.

“Right by my plans. And you, Louis?”

“Fine. But that pile of chips of yours is rather small. You sure you’re not concerned?”

Harry smiled sarcastically and pursed his lips in challenge. “Not even a bit. It’s all a game, right?”

“Sure. But I wouldn’t mind winning and beating your arses.”

Harry laughed. “Then you have to catch up with Kevin and Sonny here.”

Louis regarded his other challengers suspiciously. Then he nodded and hummed in agreement. “They’re easy.”

“And me? I’m still in the game.”

“I just haven’t figured you out yet.” Louis answered and winked at him.

Harry smiled shyly and nodded at him before going back to his cards. Soon Sonny and Kevin gave up so it was only three of them playing. Harry was equally losing and winning while Mark had a winning streak three times. Louis was doing okay.

“Okay, boys. Wrap it up, yeah? One last round.” Mike warned and distributed to each two cards. Louis blinked at his cards. A queen and a nine in the same suit. This could be his chance of winning.

“All in.” Harry mumbled after it was his turn. Louis and Mark looked at him as he pushed a small heap of chips to the centre of the table. Mark must have thought this was a sign that Harry had a good hand so he put his cards down and sighed.

“I’m out.”  
But Louis was not a quitter. And he was certain that it was a bluff on Harry’s part. Poor Harry. He genuinely thought Louis wouldn’t see through his little scheme. He basked in the knowledge that his victory would be that much sweeter and imagined Harry’s face.

Louis elegantly pushed his own heap next to Harry’s and smiled at him. “Me too.”

Harry smiled brightly in return. “So it’s just us now.”

“Scared, Styles?”

Harry shook his head and showed his dimples. “No. I’m gonna win.”

“Show your cards then.” Mike prompted.

“Let me first. I want to see your face.” Louis jumped in and dramatically lowered his cards on the table. He carefully spread his two cards to be completely visible and looked Harry in the eyes. The other five pairs of eyes dropped to see Louis’ hand for themselves. They glanced over the king of diamonds, three of hearts, ten of clubs, nine of hearts and a jack of diamonds on the table and then to Louis’ queen of clubs and nine of clubs. Harry’s jaw dropped slightly while he tried to connect what exactly is Louis’ hand. Louis was quick to get all of the chips on the table and prepare himself for the lifetime of making jokes on Harry’s expense.

“Wait.” Harry said suddenly and Louis gazed up at him, his smile faltering. Harry was grinning widely and Louis’ heart clenched at the sight. “I didn’t show my cards.”

Louis watched as Harry’s big gentle hands with distinctive dots on the back of them put down his two cards and then one of them ran through Harry’s greying hair. The corner of his eyes noticed the ace of hearts and a queen of spades on the table.

“A straight.” Mark supplied when the tension was too high. “Sorry, Louis. Harry wins.”

Louis sputtered in shock. There was no way Harry had a better hand. He was cheating! He must’ve been. That little bastard just won on his first ever poker game with Louis and his mates! And he said he wasn’t very good at it.

“You liar.” Louis growled at Harry’s smug smile when he reached over to get his chips and collected the Spa passes from each man. “You said you were rubbish at poker. You lied!”

Harry’s smile grew even wider at Louis’ disbelief and outrage. “I know. It was fun getting your arse kicked, Tomlinson. We should do it more often.”

Louis frowned and furrowed his brow at Harry, glaring as evilly as he could manage. “You bet we will, Styles. You bet.”HaHHHHHkjjkasj

 

\--

 

Old age is filled with diseases, bitterness and resignation. It’s a loop of five stages of grief from dawn to dusk.

Only few glimmers of hope break through the dark clouds and fool an old mind it’s not so bad. Denial is the worst and most present. Along with romanticising the past.

It’s the worst when Louis wakes up at four in the morning and he can feel the weight of darkness on him.

 

\--

 

“How are you, dad?” Chloe’s usually cheerful and high voice became deep and concerned over the telephone line. “Are you behaving?”

Louis chuckled at her words. There’s something to be said that the first thing his daughter asks after few weeks of their last conversation is if he’s being nice to people. Maybe she just knows him too well.

“Yes. I’m a perfectly nice duckling who didn’t set a foot out of line.” He replied and continued to play with the cord of the telephone in his apartment. “I was playing football yesterday actually. With the lads.”

“That’s great. Are the others any good or you’re kicking everybody’s arse?” Chloe said and Louis swore he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Like anybody can beat your dad at football. Chloe, be realistic.” He laughed and then coughed a bit. “It was nice. Playing again and being with people.”

“Mhmm…”Chloe agreed, “and how’s Harry?”

Louis smiled momentarily at her mention of Harry but then he froze. “He’s good. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’ve been talking for few minutes and you still haven’t mentioned anything about him. I was getting worried there for a sec.” she explained and giggled into the receiver. Louis grunted.

“I don’t talk that much about him. We’re friends, he’s a funny guy. Like…what. Harry’s fine.”

“Dad. I can hear your brain going into overdrive. Relax. I didn’t mean anything bad.” Chloe tried to calm him, “I’m just glad you’re making friends and enjoying your time at Brunswick. Harry seems nice.”

“If I complained all the time would you fly all the way from Sydney and come rescue me?” Louis asked teasingly and Chloe laughed at him.

“Well, I’ve been worried. If that’s what you’re aiming at. I just want you to be happy, dad.” Chloe said after they calmed down, “I think you’ve been doing fine lately, don’t you think?”

Louis agreed reluctantly. He knew there was a point to what Chloe was saying but he didn’t want to ruin it all with his stupid questioning. Hearing and talking to his daughter every few weeks was one of the highlights of Louis’ days. If he didn’t count hanging out with Harry.

“I’m happy, love. Don’t worry about me.”

“I know we’ve never talked about it when I was younger but…”

“What, Chloe?”

“Uhm….Nothing, doesn’t matter anymore. Would you-“

“Just say what’s on your mind. I won’t be mad.” Louis assured her with an exasperated sigh. His daughter really resembled her mother at times.

Chloe sighed as well on the other line. “I just… I know you loved mum. I was always looking up to your relationship and thought ‘that’s exactly what I want for myself’. But then, I saw how some of my friends’ parents looked at each other and kissed and… I wondered why my parents never kissed with such passion. I was worried for years that you would get a divorce and I’ll be the clichéd child from a broken home.” Chloe explained slowly, “Few weeks before I went to uni I overheard mum talking to you. Remember? She said that I’m all grown up and that it’s finally time for you and for her to find happiness. That she’s giving you freedom to go and be with men who you fancy. And…”

Louis couldn’t breathe while he listened to his daughter admitting she knew about his secret all these years. He thought he kept up the friendly happiness with Lily for her so well that she would never catch up on what’s really going on. But that’s obviously not what happened.

“Chloe.”

“Yes?” Chloe stopped her ranting and listened attentively what Louis was going to ask.

“Uhmm… Wh-what is it you’re trying to say?” Louis swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I think it’s finally time you come to terms with your feelings. I know you refused to date anyone, especially after mum died, but… I haven’t met Harry. But I firmly believe he’s so good for you. You sound really good. And happy.”

Louis almost choked at her words. Tears were pooling in his eyes but he refused to let them fall down on his cheeks and let his daughter hear him cry over the phone. He took a deep breath and wiped the moist out of his eyes.

“I- uhm… Can I talk to Samantha?”

“Oh. Sure, okay. Sammy!” Chloe called. Louis heard a pair of feet lazily tapping over the wooden floor and a distant ‘yeah?’. Chloe handed her the receiver and Louis heard a lazy ‘hello?’ from the other end.

“Hello, love. It’s your grandpa.”

“Hey. What’s up?” Samantha said cheerfully and Louis’ heart swelled at the sound of her voice.

“Nothing much. Teasing some of the old geezers around here and kicking their arses in football. The usual.”

Samantha chuckled and agreed. “I bet. There’s no match for you, huh?”

“Mhmm. I’ve still got some life in me left, yeah?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not old. You’re mature.”

Louis laughed. “If you say so, darling.”

“When are you coming to visit us?” Samantha asked and Louis bit his lip nervously.

“I don’t know. Tomorrow?” Louis proposed and Samantha giggled.

“I’ll pick you up when your flight comes.” She said and Louis snorted.

“Sure.”

He talked with Samantha for couple more minutes about school and Australia. Then she gave the phone back to Chloe and they said goodbye. She didn’t say anything about what she confessed knowing and Louis was glad. Discussing these things over the phone was awkward and stupid.

He was happy knowing his family wanted him to be happy but some choices were his to make. And he knew all of the choices he made in the past and choices he would make had all been for the good of him and more importantly his family.

He wasn’t sure if Chloe really resented him for not taking the way out when she was young, but he hoped she forgave him for indirectly lying and fooling her.

Of course she didn’t know that Louis took Lily’s offer to explore the gay horizons and he spent two months going out to clubs and hooking up with men. Basically he squeezed 20+ years of suppressed feelings and fantasies in these two months. But then when he was lying down on a stranger’s bed after a rough round of sex his mind drifted to Chloe and Lily who were waiting for him at home. He remembered thinking ‘alright, I did what I wanted. It was fun, now I have to go back to my family.’

His sense of loyalty had overrun his need for personal fulfilment. He was a grown ass adult with responsibilities and it was just sex. It didn’t mean anything. Nothing like his family and friends made him feel.

But Chloe’s words about Harry and how he could be good for Louis rang in his mind hours later. He was at a point were he wasn’t needed anymore; to protect and provide for. He was a widower with a grown up child who had moved to a country on the other side of the planet. All he had was time and inevitability of death.

For the first time since that night when he went back home from his one night stand he thought that he could let himself give in to personal fulfilment. To give in to love.

 

\--

 

Two months passed since Louis met Harry. Louis realised this after checking the calendar in his small kitchen. And he smiled at the realisation.  

Louis has learned a lot about himself in those two months but more importantly he learned a lot about Harry. More and more he felt like they knew each other for years, like they were lifetime best friends.

Things were going so good and they were spending so much time together that Louis was honestly waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was convinced something bad had to happen because things were so good.

Harry didn’t seem concerned about it, but he kept being his charming and accommodating self. He entertained Louis with stories about his flower shop and people who would come in sometimes; from lovely children buying roses for their mums and crushes to old ladies buying bouquets for their grandchildren. Louis told Harry stories about his patrons while he worked in the pub.

Sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all. They would sit in the Lounge Room in the corner and Harry would read while Louis napped on the comfy couch. Sometimes Harry would read to Louis. His favourite was _Pride and Prejudice_ and Louis oftentimes caught him smiling at the book while reading. Then he teased and nagged to read him the passage that made Harry smile so secretly.

Then there were other times when they would go on long walks around the retirement village and share secrets and memories. Harry spoke some more about his late husband but not a lot. He was much more keen talking about children and his nephews.

 There were even some amusing situations where Louis for a moment would forget where he was or where they were going so in a burst of panic he would start walking in the other direction and Harry couldn’t catch up to him. A few times when he would look at Harry too intently and when it was his turn to talk he would mess up his words and say something completely unintelligible. He ascribed these moments of confusion to Harry’s dazzling smile and charm. But the frequency of those moments partially worried him.

 

\--

 

“I’ll make you dinner.” Harry said simply one day, his voice almost a whisper in the busy restaurant.

Louis got worried after missing an appointment with his doctor in the city the day before. It completely escaped his mind that he had any engagements at all, and it was his important monthly examination. He wouldn’t get another until next month and Jackie made sure he wrote it down and circled it in his calendar. She said it wasnothing to worry about. Everybody forgets things.

But Louis was feeling rather funny that entire day, absent-minded and wandering around. Harry had to snap him out of his stupor at least three times. And the worried glance he noticed in the curly man’s face told him it was something to be concerned about.

Instead of Harry disclosing his worries, the man simply offered to make Louis dinner at his apartment so Louis could relax. And not stress about anything.

It was futile because Louis got more stressed over the fact they wouldbe alone in Harry’s apartment for the first time. They had only eaten meals in the restaurant with other people and hung out while there was at least one more person around. The offer screamed of intimacy and privacy, and Louis was genuinely scared the atmosphere would be unbearable because he couldn’t keep up a normal conversation.

It was ages since he had been on a date for thelast time. And this was certainly a date. A man doesn’t offer another man to cook dinner without having a hidden agenda. Maybe Harry wanted to impress Louis a bit.

“Alright.”

 

 

Louis patiently stood in front of the white doors with a gilded number 25 on them. He hit the buzzer on the wall and heard a muffled bang in the apartment.

“I’m fine!” he heard Harry yelling from the inside and hid his chuckle behind his palm. The lock clicked from the inside and the door opened to reveal a smiling Harry. Dressed in a clean patterned grey shirt and black trousers. The first thought Louis had upon seeing him was ‘beautiful’ but he kept it to himself.

“Hello, Louis.” Harry greeted him and wheeled in reverse to let Louis into his narrow hallway. _Not too suitable for person in wheelchair_ , Louis thought when Harry manoeuvred his wheelchair backwards to themore spacious living room. He should probably talk to someone about moving Harry to amore wheelchair-friendly apartment.

The living room was dimly lit with several candles placed around. The plates and the utensils were on the table with a long thin candle and a vase with a single rose in it. Louis nervously smoothed down his burgundy T-shirt. At least he had the decency to put on his nice dark brown trousers so he wouldn’t be too out of this clean and expensive-looking environment.

“Dinner should be ready in a minute. Give me a hand?” Harry asked.

“Of course.” Louis said. He could feel the tension and nerves leaving him as the minutes ticked by. Harry just had that kind of effect on him. Lured him in his positive bubble and filled him with joy with his wide smile.

They settled at the small dinning table in the living room and began their meals. Louis complimented Harry on his roast chicken and mashed potatoes, and praised the dessert which consisted of panna cotta and raspberry sauce.

They talked about everything and nothing. Louis mostly talked about Chloe and Samantha, and Harry about his nephews. They talked about their childhoods and teenage years. Harry talked about the music he enjoyed and Louis prompted him to talk more about his favourite books. Some more funny stories were exchanged and comfortable silences intermitted.

It was nice. Louis hardly remembered enjoying someone’s company so much and wanting to stay in their company.

“I have to show you something.” Harry said suddenly, interrupting one of the silences where Louis admired how the candlelight caressed his face and made his green eyes spark up.

“Yeah?” Louis mumbled.

“Yeah.” Harry looked at him, sort of dazedly. “Come. Follow me to my room.”

Louis stood up and followed Harry through the hallway to the large bedroom with a queen-sized bed. It was a cosy room which appeared much smaller than it was. A window with partly drawn shutters was right on the opposite of the door.

“Sit on the bed.” Harry instructed him and Louis quickly obliged. He watched as Harry backed all the way to the door with his wheelchair and unhooked the footrest. Then he slowly moved his legs down on the carpeted floor. Louis watched silently with a bated breath what Harry will do next. He knew Harry had the somewhat limited ability to walk but he never dared to do it. He said he was embarrassed how wobbly and slow he was.

But this Harry was ready to show Louis his vulnerable side, something which he was so embarrassed with.

Harry gripped the hand rests of the wheelchair and slowly pushed himself up into a standing position. His knees buckled a bit and his legs were shaking slightly, but he was standing. Tall and proud. Louis stood up in case he might need help.

“No, no. Stay there.” Harry said firmly. Then he took his first shaky step forward. Louis couldn’t move and he couldn’t think as he watched Harry slowly walking towards him. “Oh god, my back hurts so much.” Harry whined and sped up slightly. He was so near Louis, but his sudden speed made him trip over air and he fell forward into Louis’ arms. Louis gripped his waist tightly and didn’t let them topple over in case they might break something.

Harry giggled into his neck and Louis started laughing too. They were shaking with the force of their giggles with their limbs and bodies entwined.

Louis felt as light as air. And so unbelievably happy.

“Okay. Let me go, so I can lay down.” Harry said and leaned back. Louis stepped to the side and was ready to say goodbye and return to his own bed because it was getting late. “Wait. Stay.” Harry pleaded and Louis wordlessly settled next to him on top of his bed.

They were lying on their sides and facing each other. Louis watched as the lights from outside fell over Harry’s forehead and hair.

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked him hesitantly, as if he was embarrassed aboutwhat Louis might think. Louis smiled instead.

“How long did you practice that?”

Harry smiled too. “A while. It was a long time since I walked in front of anyone besides my doctor.”

“Is your back ok? It looked like you were in a lot of pain.” Louis noticed and watched Harry’s face carefully when a car passed next to the window and lit the inside of the room.

“S’okay. Just uncomfortable. You know, since I replaced my hip and all, and I had that back surgery when I fell down the ladder in the flower shop.”

Louis reached out and put his palm on Harry’s back and slowly rubbed to ease out the lingering pain. Harry caught his breath and shuffled more closely to Louis for easier access. Louis knew he was stepping over the friendship boundary that grew so thin, but he assumed that Harry wanted something more too. If their dinner was anything to go by.

Harry sighed contently.

“Okay?” Louis asked and Harry nodded.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry whispered in the dark, and his warm breath hit Louis face and Louis was reminded of how close they were. He didn’t mind. “I know we’ve mostly talked about happy stuff and memories…and I learned a lot about you.” Harry took a breath. “But do you regret anything? Something you wish have gone differently or-?”

Louis was quiet. Harry started to get a bit fidgety and kept looking all over Louis’ face to understand how Louis was feeling, if he somehow overstepped any boundaries.

But Louis was thinking of something else. He wondered if this was the time to reach those last few inches and take Harry’s hand in his. Finally, he took a deep breath.

“There are few things I regret doing.” Louis confessed, “but there are even less things I regret not doing. The way I see it…“ he said and pressed his palm against Harry’s, intertwining their fingers and soaking up his warmth. Harry’s face stayed expressionless. He waited for Louis to continue. “Everything is just the way it was supposed to happen. My actions and reactions shape moments just as actions and reactions of other people shape my life. Everything happened the way it was supposed to.”

It was not until the words escaped his mouth that he realised he meant all of that. He was finally accepting the good, the bad, the ugly and the bitter. Louis’ life was his own and he did the best he could.

Louis smiled faintly at Harry. “My life is my proudestachievement and happiness is its purpose.”

Harry’s lips parted and the languid atmosphere that surrounded them slowly turned more tense and anticipatory. A happy buzz was sizzling in Louis’ veins.

“Are you happy then?” Harry asked and squeezed Louis’ hand gently. Louis smiled a bit brighter and kissed Harry’s knuckles.

“When I’m with you, I’m happy.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He was blinking slowly opposite Louis, his green eyes looking so soft in the dim light coming through the window from behind Louis. Streetlight was singling him out like a reflector in theatre. The only relevant figure in the world right now. Which he was. If not to the outside world, but to the little world Louis built for himself here, in this little apartment, and most importantly in that special place in the centre of his chest. His greying hair looked darker and Louis saw all of Harry’s years in the crow’s feet by his eyes when he smiled. The words were at the tip of his tongue. But Harry beat him to it.

“I love you,” Harry whispered slowly, “most ardently.”

 

\--

 

The first kiss they shared was sweet and gentle.

Just a brush of lips, but it was enough to make Louis’ heart soar. When they parted he couldn’t resist but pressing more kisses all over Harry’s face. The curly man was giggling like a child over Louis’ affections and his dimples resembled large craters on his face because of how wide he was smiling.

They were still lying in Harry’s bed in the apartment and it was slowly getting more late. So they decided Louis could spend the night.

Louis pulled back and framed Harry’s face with his palms. He rubbed his cheeks gently and soaked up the features he loved so much and the eyes which loved him in return. They were a sparkly meadow green colour and smiled back at him.

“I can’t have sex with you, Lou.” Harry blurted. Louis cackled and pressed his thumb into Harry’s dimple when he smiled out of embarrassment.

“Ah, damn. I’m leaving you then.” Louis said jokingly and thumbed Harry’s bottom lip.

“No, really. I can’t have any pressure on my hips and pelvis. You know I had that hip replacement surgery and that back surgery after I fell-“

“Harry.” Louis interrupted him and cupped his face gently. “It’s okay. I could spend the rest of my days just kissing you. And hugging you. And looking at your lovely face. I don’t need anything more.”

Harry nodded and leaned closer to kiss Louis again. “Me too.”

As Louis leaned back again to kiss him one more time before falling asleep, he felt something snap in his chest. A filling in his soul and heart, and he finally didn’t feel that hole pinching him anymore. And his dark cloud was replaced by a rainbow.


	2. You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

~~

 

For the entirety of Harry's life he had been surrounded by flowers.

When he was a child his mother always had a fresh bouquet in a vase in the kitchen, she had a big garden with various flowers and every flat surface was covered with vases and plant pots and cacti of all sizes, shapes and colours.

He used to help her plant new types of flowers in the garden, according to the seasonal change and blooming season. He was the happiest when he was knee deep in gardening soil and with grass stains on his jeans, carrying a small spade. He played with his sister among the rose bushes and rhododendrons pretending they were a knight and a princess or a vampire and a robot.

When he got older, he kept coming back to the flowers – to tulips and lilacs, peonies and petunias – whether it was in his school garden or the local florist’s. When he felt sad or struggled in school for some reason only reading or picking out weeds between the stems of his beloved sunflowers helped him lift up his mood. He was a strange child among boys and girls who discovered alcohol, sports and clubs.

He was perfectly content that way.

It was no surprise he opened a flower shop (with a little help from his mother) when he was 26 years old. He wanted to share the joy flowers gave him with others and possibly teach them what he learned with the flowers.

That all things, with hard work and patience and little bit of luck, can grow into a colourful beauty of nature. No matter how small or big the seed they started with.

He never realised how much the people who came into his flower shop would teach him as well. He had seen little boys buying single roses or daisies from their pocket money for their Valentines and crushes, he’d seen grown men buy bouquets for their wives and mistresses, he’d seen old ladies buy small arrangements for their late husbands… he’d seen the ugly and the good in people.

It still has not deterred him from finding only good in them because he hoped that even the bad seed can grow if it’s placed in a good soil.

He met Greg among flowers.

He was making plans for the flower show in Manchester for the spring of 1992 and was handling his latest order of big rose wreath for a graduation anniversary when someone walked into his greenhouse behind the shop.

Harry was essentially living and working at one place – having the downstairs floor refurbished into a small flower shop and the upstairs was his living space. Behind the house was a spacious garden with a big greenhouse to stock all his and his customer’s needs.

So he was picking fresh roses for the wreath while mentally deciding which bushes and flowers to show off to Manchester population. He didn’t even hear someone coming into the greenhouse until he heard a gruff ‘hello’ from the entrance.

He quickly turned to accommodate the customer and he saw a gentle face with black hair looking at him from behind his prized begonias. It wasn’t love at first sight as Harry would like to comfort himself later. It was a normal meeting, with lots of smiling and polite shaking of hands.

Greg was the new mailman and he needed Harry to sign for the box of ribbons and flower pots he ordered. Harry was drawn to him, for sure. He was drawn to anyone new who he met and found interesting. It didn’t take Greg long to ask him on a date. Only two months of casual meetings in the flower shop and small talk. Greg bought him flowers for the first date.

Harry liked Greg very much. He might have even fallen in love with him a year later and they decided to live together and marry. And after five years he might have wanted to mention children and adoption but then it was also when Greg found out he had cancer. Pancreatic cancer no less.

The most evil and vicious of them all. And the least likely to survive in advanced stage.

Harry was married to Greg for ten years and loved him so dearly that when he passed away Harry could not look at another bouquet without crying.

That was when he hired his neighbour to work at the till and with the customers and orders while he slaved away in the greenhouse and his garden. His sister said that his flowers have never looked more pretty.

He poured all his love and grief into his flowers, the only thing he found solace in in all of his life. It was the flowers that caused him to not being able to walk freely anymore.

In his greenhouse he fell off a stool he used to reach the highest stems of the Passion Flower to pick the dead leaves. He had to replace his hip at 55 years old.

Ten years later he fell off a ladder in the flower shop when he wanted to redecorate the interior with some hanging flower pots and tried to put them on the nail on the ceiling. He had a back surgery but it wasn’t very successful and the impact of the fall affected his hip as well. He had to move around with a wheelchair because after several steps his back will begin to ache and his pelvis would twist to the side.

He couldn’t work in the garden or greenhouse normally and working at the till in the flower shop was only making him depressed. He sold the property for a smaller apartment where he lived for five years and then his nephews convinced him he’d be better off in the retirement village.

And that is how he met Louis.

After living alone for almost thirty years and losing all hope of falling in love, he met this bright white and grey-haired beacon of sunlight called Louis Tomlinson. Even when he was married to Greg, he didn’t think too much about the concept of soulmates or believed in them in the first place. But being around Louis, laughing at his jokes and sharing meals together – it took Harry hardly two weeks before he realised he was falling in love. Again. He was deeply shaken by this realisation and he was hiding from Louis for two days because he thought he’d be able to see all of his feelings on his face.

Mind you, Harry also thought then that Louis was heterosexual and could never reciprocate the feelings so Harry wanted to spare himself the heartache. He was too old for that.

But he wasn’t too old to enjoy another person’s company and friendship. Louis was first and foremost his friend, his confidant. He discovered just how much one can trust another person with all of his troubles and problems and innermost thoughts.

Just after two months of final confession of his feelings, Harry thought he couldn’t be happier in his life. The bliss lasted for only a week. Until Louis got the newest results from his doctor.

Harry already anticipated the outcome; he had seen the signs in his sister’s behaviour few years before she died. That was hard on Harry, Gemma’s death, but seeing it happen again to someone who he loved so intimately and deeply was nothing short of horrible.

Louis had the Alzheimer’s disease.

At first he began forgetting trifle stuff – his keys, remote, documents and toothbrush – then it slowly progressed in getting lost in the retirement village or losing focus while they were simply walking down the street. He started to forget appointments and his mood swings were getting more and more drastic. Doctor prescribed some medication and Harry took care of everything.

He moved in with Louis, to his apartment, to take better care of him. He worried about him taking his medication, motivating him when he was on his lowest and playing mental games with him to try and exercise his brain muscles. Anything that might help Louis feel better and his illness to progress as slow as possible. He also kissed him as often as he could, to see a flicker of Louis’ old smile.

 

It’s been a year and a half since Harry moved into the Brunswick Gardens Village. It’s also been a little over the year since he and Louis kissed for the first time. Harry wanted to make that day a special one; he could cook dinner like always, maybe light few candles and he could read to Louis some of the new books Jackie left for him a week before.

He was sitting in the living room while TV was on and browsed through the cookbook. Nothing seemed to appease his mind and excite his taste buds. Then Louis came out of the shower. He was holding the towel in front of his body instead of wrapping it around his waist and he was carefully looking around.

“Hey, Lou.” Harry said and closed the book, turning to his boyfriend who was looking like he might bolt out. “Did you have a good shower?”

Louis carefully regarded Harry. Harry thought he might have not recognised him but then he smiled sweetly and approached him. “It was nice. Water was nice. Wish you could’ve joined me.”

Harry chuckled. He might have not lost him all the way yet. “I can’t, love. I have to prepare our dinner. D’you know what day is today?”

Louis furrowed his brow and nervously gripped the towel in his hands. “Um… A Saturday? It’s a holiday, right? I- I’ll remember it, just give me-“

Harry shook his head. “No, Lou. It’s-it’s our anniversary, remember? Today is the day you kissed me for the first time, yeah?” Harry prompted him to remember.

Louis blinked at him.

“I made us dinner then too. And-“

Louis’ face lit up. “I remember. Haz, I remember. Happy anniversary.” He ducked down and kissed Harry gently, letting go of his towel and dropping it to the floor.

Harry sighed happily into Louis’ face. He _remembered_. He stole another short kiss from Louis and leaned back. “Good. Is there anything you crave possibly? I could make you anything. It’s our special day.” He told him and gazed up at Louis’ face.  

“I think I’d like a risotto or something like that.” He said and then moved past Harry, still naked as the day he was born and into their bedroom to find some clothes.

“Alright. A risotto or something, it is.”

He heard Louis’ soft laugh from the bedroom and then picked up his discarded towel and the cookbook. He found few recipes he liked and put bookmarks between the pages. Then he reached for another book he already read through from cover to cover and which at some places already had dog ears. He quickly found the page he was looking for.

It had bold letters on the top. ‘Symptoms’.

He carefully read the chapter again while Louis finally dressed and started annoying him for attention. He wanted them to watch a fottie match on TV before they went to do anything else. Harry nodded and while Louis went to fetch two bottles of beer, he quickly went over the bullet points in the corner of the first page of his chapter.

 _Problems with language_. _Getting lost_. _Mood swings_. _Loss of motivation_. _Not managing self care_. _Withdraws from family and society_. _Bodily functions are lost_. 

Harry wondered how much time he would have until Louis completely forgot him and started to lash out in fear. He wondered how much time until these simple times would get replaced with harder and more confusing things when he couldn’t take care of Louis by himself anymore.

It took him seventy years to find Louis and love him like he had always wanted – deeply and unconditionally – but he feared that Louis might leave before Harry is fully ready to let him go.

Louis’ family was contacted several days after the first diagnose and Harry had finally met them. He met the darling and protective Chloe who had put on a brave face in front of her daughter and her dad so they weren’t so scared of what was to come. Harry could see why Louis was so proud of her; she was a strong and independent, caring woman who reminded him of much of the man he loved. Samantha was outgoing and stubborn teenager like any other but she was also the spitting image of her mother and so charming and beautiful.

He felt welcome and Chloe’s private ‘thank you’ held so many unspoken things that Harry almost cried.

When they left for Sydney again after a whole week of visit, Harry couldn’t help but notice how he said goodbye to his family as well. Louis and he might not be married but the connection they had stemmed all the way to his family too that Harry started to think of Chloe as his daughter too. It might be selfish because he wanted a daughter like her for all of his life, but it was safe if he kept it to himself.

 

He cried sometimes when he went to sleep and Louis would kiss his tears away, even in his state of constant confusion he always offered Harry comfort and reassurance, trying to keep him happy. He held onto Louis tightly in his sleep.

With a lot of sweet moments, came a lot of hard moments. Louis refused to eat anything that wasn’t homemade and he didn’t want to go out as much as he used to. Jackie and other nurses delivered his and Louis’ medication but only Harry was allowed to give Louis his.

Even now, as old as he was and sick to the bone, he was still surrounded with flowers. As Louis was slowly losing his memory and his brain was shutting down, he seemed to remember that Harry loved flowers. So everyday a new bouquet was lying on the small dining table for Harry to find. Or a single stem was tucked in his hair - in the remnants of what was once lush and curly mane - and followed by a kiss. He didn’t know how Louis did it; maybe he stomped on his fear to interact with outside world to make Harry happy because he felt guilty to pull him in the mess that was his illness. But Harry could never tell him that it was worth it.

Even as he slowly watched light in Louis’ eyes dimming month by month and slowly forgetting about him, he stood by him and helped him find peace. It was also to help himself as well. He knew he didn’t have much time so he wanted to save every wrinkle and smile before both of them went to a better place together.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last half is unedited and I apologise for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it!   
> Now I'm off to bigger projects which have sat in my folder for too long.


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